


You Pick Two

by patchfire, raving_liberal



Series: The Hudmans [4]
Category: Glee
Genre: Alive Finn Hudson, Angst Free, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, College, Coming Out, Drunk Hook-Up, Luis Is Very Chill, M/M, No Real Sexuality Crisis, Nonchalantly Bisexual Finn Hudson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-05
Updated: 2016-05-05
Packaged: 2018-06-06 11:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,784
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6752536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/patchfire/pseuds/patchfire, https://archiveofourown.org/users/raving_liberal/pseuds/raving_liberal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neither one of them actually asked, then they both sort of nonchalantly told, and it all worked out very neatly and conveniently (Alternate Title: The Completely Uneventful Dual Coming Out).</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Pick Two

Waking up disoriented isn’t really a new experience for Puck, as much as he’d sometimes like to claim otherwise. Waking up in an unfamiliar place, uncertain about why he wasn’t at home, had started long before Puck had ever started drinking. If he had the opportunity to sleep somewhere that wasn’t at home, he took it. First it had been his parents screaming, then it had been a combination of his parents yelling and his sister crying, and later only his sister. By late middle school, the nagging from his mother and the whining of his sister had been enough to make him take the opportunity to crash other places if he could. He did it enough that it felt relatively normal by the middle of ninth grade to wake up and be confused about where he was or why he was there. 

Alcohol had never helped the disorientation to go away, though Puck can’t really say it ever made it worse, either. It had merely added a dimension of hoping he hadn’t done anything too strange or revealing that he didn’t even remember the next morning. Yeah, he’d started drinking less his junior year and into his senior year, but he’d found himself drinking again after a month or two in LA. No one in LA knew him, though, so he didn’t worry too much about what he might have said. The one time he found himself inexplicably at the same club as Mercedes, he’d stopped drinking as soon as he spotted her. It didn’t stop him from crashing somewhere that wasn’t his apartment, because ‘apartment’ was a generous term for it. 

Puck had headed back to Lima, unsure if this time, he’d find a place he didn’t mind waking up in. Most of time, he still wakes up disoriented, because the dorm room is still new, sharing a room with someone is still new, even if it is Finn, and because he’s not used to always waking up in the same bed every morning. It’s only been a couple of months, though; maybe he’ll get used to it as summer progresses.

This morning is different, though. He’s in a dorm room, but it’s not Finn’s dorm room. He’s not alone, but the other person isn’t sleeping in the bunk below him. Puck can see the top bunk above where he’s lying, in fact, and that’s not something that’s happened often since he came back to Lima. Twice, he thinks, and then shakes his head, wincing a little as he does. This time makes three. The first two times had been with tri-Sig sisters, which hadn’t been his intent, per se, either time, but it hadn’t been bad either. 

This time, Puck has the distinct feeling he’s not in a tri-Sigma sister’s dorm room, or any other sorority girl’s dorm, either. It’s a little bit making gender assumptions, sure, but the combination of the smell, the Browns poster, the Call of Duty poster, and the scattered white tube socks on the floor give the distinct impression he is definitely in a room with a dude. That means that probably when he turns his head to the side, he’s going to find out that the person also lying in the bottom bunk is a dude. 

Given that conclusion, Puck starts taking a mental inventory of himself, closing his eyes again as he does. He doesn’t have a shirt on. He doesn’t have _pants_ on either, and since he knows he was going commando, that means he’s completely naked. He focuses on his face again. He can’t tell for sure, but his lips feel like he could have been making out. 

_Shit_. 

Puck’s almost afraid to continue cataloging after that, but he does. Nothing feels too strange, which he assumes is a good sign. A good sign, since his list of ‘things to do this weekend’ had in no way included anything with a dude. He’s already naked in bed with a dude, which is probably quite enough. His inventory concluded, Puck sighs and turns his head slowly as he opens his eyes. 

His first thought is that at least the dude is good looking. Puck doesn’t recognize him, which isn’t surprising. He’d been at a party thrown by three of the other frats, open to everyone on campus, and it’d been crowded. U of Lima is small enough that it’s easy to get around, but big enough that it’s easy to believe there are people he’s never seen before. The dude lying beside him is unfamiliar but handsome. He isn’t someone Puck would have guessed at for his type, but he’s attractive, and after a couple of drinks, Puck’s type probably hadn’t mattered to him. 

Something else that apparently hadn’t mattered was his entire plan of ignoring the part of him that sometimes noticed dudes. That, Puck had thought, was better left untouched. Now, however, there had definitely been touching, something he realizes only when he starts to move. There’s come on the sheets and on his dick, and he suspects if he looked under the sheets, Mr. Tall Latino and Handsome would have a similar predicament going. 

It isn’t that Puck had been unaware of his bisexuality, but he’d planned on never dealing with it. If he never kisses a guy, if he never does anything but accidentally look, he can pretend he’s straight, or that had been his plan. He’d assumed it would be easier. He isn’t even sure when he realized he was bisexual or when he’d developed the plan, though he knew the plan had come quickly after the realization. By senior year, though, both had been in place, and he’s spent at least two years telling himself he’s fine with that. 

Puck-with-two-drinks apparently isn’t fine with it, and since alcohol lowers inhibitions but doesn’t make people do things they wouldn’t do otherwise, Puck has to conclude that he’s been lying to himself. Clearly some part of him is not okay with pretending not to be bisexual, which means he’s not only been lying to himself, he’s been lying to other people. 

The one thing Puck tries not to be is a liar, so he has to admit this particular turn of events is distressing. It’s not the guy beside him’s fault, either, so he can’t just sneak out of the dorm room like an asshole. Puck clears his throat, trying to remember what the guy’s name is. He remembers talking to a Brent and a Luis, and it seems far likelier this guy is Luis. 

“Luis?” Puck says quietly, unsure if there’s someone in the bed above them or not. 

“Hmm?” the guy says, and Puck exhales in relief. Luis it is. 

“Hey. I didn’t want to be the asshole who leaves while you’re asleep,” Puck says, because that at least is true. “But I need to go.” Strictly speaking, Puck knows there’s nothing on his calendar. He does need to quietly get a cup of coffee, give himself a pep talk, and then talk to Finn, because coffee, himself, and Finn are the only real constants in his life. 

“Oh, hey, yeah, no problem,” Luis says, opening his eyes and looking like it’s possible he had zero drinks to compare to Puck’s some number more than two. “That’s really decent of you.” 

Puck hates that Luis sounds a little surprised, but he guesses he must’ve said or done something to give Luis that impression. “I try not to be dishonest, you know?” Puck settles for as he starts wiggling slowly out of the bed. 

“Yeah, I get that,” Luis says. Puck has the distinct feeling that Luis might be propped up on one arm, watching Puck bend to collect his clothes and then pull them on. He’s done the same to girls after a one-nighter, and he can’t convince himself it feels bad. It feels _good_ , if he’s completely honest, knowing he’s being admired. 

“I had a good time,” Puck says, then laughs self-deprecatingly. “Well, what I remember.” 

Luis laughs, too. “Good. See you around campus.” 

“Yeah, see you around,” Puck says, thinking for at least the eighth time that he’s going to end up enrolled in classes just by the sheer insistence of so many people around him. He closes Luis’s door and looks up and down the hall, trying to orient himself. He has no idea what dorm he’s in, what floor, or even what part of the dorm, but he can follow the EXIT signs to the stairwell, at least, which is what he does. 

When he’s finally outside, he pauses and looks at himself in the now-closed door to Luis’s dorm. He doesn’t look too bad for having been out all night, which means he can go get that coffee he wants before talking to Finn without resorting to tiptoeing, the rec center showers, or accidentally giving Finn the silent treatment. 

The first few sips of coffee help, and Puck’s location in the campus coffee shop helps. He’s in the corner, facing away from the door, hunkered over a little. He needs at least five or ten uninterrupted minutes to process his evening. He can admit that the longer he’s awake and the more the caffeine and the coffee hit his system, he can remember more and more of the previous evening. His initial assumption seems correct: the alcohol had lowered his inhibitions enough that when Luis started flirting with him, Puck had flirted right back. After that barrier had been breached, Puck had been pretty forward, at least in his memories. Saying yes to going back to Luis’s room, saying yes to the way their hands had been around each other’s dicks, saying yes to kissing a boy, all of it had seemed reasonable to Puck the night before, and now, sitting in the coffee shop, he can’t say it feels any less reasonable. With his lowered inhibitions, none of it had felt wrong in any way. 

In the daylight, alcohol out of his system, Puck acknowledges that ‘giving in’ had not be the catastrophe that he’d assumed it would be at seventeen. Nothing about the brief hookup with Luis was all that different than a night with a girl. The only extraordinary thing, really, is how ordinary it all feels, even as Puck reaches the bottom of his coffee cup. Coffee, check. Honesty with himself, check. That’s two constants out of three, which means it’s time for the third.

Puck stands, tosses his cup in the trash, and pulls out his phone, sending Finn a quick text. 

_Hey you in the dorm? Got a few minutes?_

_I just got up_ Finn texts back after a few minutes, which probably means Puck’s text is actually what woke Finn up. 

_Didn’t you have study group like two hours ago?_ Puck sends back, frowning at his phone as if Finn can magically sense his facial expression. 

_Canceled chill_

Puck snorts. _Yeah you can show me those receipts when I get there in five_

_Butt_ is all Finn texts back. 

Puck speeds up his walking, because if he gets lucky, he’ll get there while Finn’s pissing, and he can pretend to be checking Finn’s phone for said receipts when Finn gets back. It also puts off his own conversation for at least two or three minutes. Of course, Finn is sitting on his bunk when Puck opens the door, wearing last night’s t-shirt with a pair of boxers. 

“Convenient study group cancellation?” Puck says almost cheerfully. 

“It’s in my email. You can check it if you want,” Finn says, answering Puck’s cheerfulness with full-on grump mode. “Not like you don’t know all my passwords.”

“That’s for safety,” Puck insists, grabbing Finn’s desk chair and sitting down backwards in it. “I can quiz you on whatever it was later if you need me to.” 

Finn nods, still looking grumpy. “Where’d you end up last night?” 

“Canfield,” Puck says carefully. 

“Is that an everybody dorm?” Finn asks. 

“Noooooo,” Puck draws out slowly. “Not really.” 

“Huh. Weird.” Finn shakes his head. “You pass out on somebody’s floor or something?”

“Or something,” Puck agrees. “You awake enough to talk?” 

“Yeah. Sure. What’s up?” Finn asks. 

“You know I don’t like lying. And I’ve been lying to myself, and that means everyone else, too,” Puck starts. 

“Okay,” Finn says, nodding at him. He looks less grumpy, though Puck figures that’s more a function of effort than really feeling more awake. 

“I’m just going to ramble, so interrupt me if you need to ask a question. I thought—okay, so I thought that if I totally ignored it, it meant it wasn’t really true, you know? And that worked for awhile, sort of, except having a plan to ‘deal’ with it was still acknowledging it, now that I think about it. Alcohol lowers your inhibitions, though, and I guess that finally made my brain have to deal with it,” Puck says, then realizes he’s still talking around it. “I mean, yeah, Canfield’s not an everybody dorm and I wasn’t on the floor, I was on the bottom bunk.” 

“So… you had a threeway?” Finn asks, tilting his head slightly to the side and scrunching his face up like he does when he’s still confused. 

Puck grins. “I’m glad you think I could, but yeah, no, no threeway last night. I mean, really there wasn’t much but some mutual helping each other out, but yeah, just the two of us.” 

“Ohhhhhhh,” Finn says as he raises his eyebrows. “Oh. Okay. I understand.”

“Well, you’re doing better than I did, ‘cause I laid there for a bit and then had to go get coffee to make me admit to me that oh, yeah, maybe I actually am bisexual,” Puck says wryly. 

“Well,” Finn says, then scrunches his face up again before finally continuing, “congratulations?”

Puck can’t hold back his laugh. “On what?” 

“Your… bisexualness?”

“Does the congratulations come with cake? Presents?” Puck asks. 

“Maybe if you’d give me some advance warning, I could’ve gotten you a card or something,” Finn says. “I didn’t know I needed one!”

“Dude,” Puck says, laughing again. “Neither did I, or did you miss that part of the story?” 

“You could have texted me what it was on the way over and I could’ve probably made you an e-card, at least.”

“I think it’s the thought that counts, right?” Puck says. 

Finn picks up his phone and kind of frowns down at it as he says, “Uh huh.” After about thirty seconds of Finn typing furiously into his phone, Puck’s phone buzzes. Puck looks down and opens the email notification. Once the link loads, Puck starts laughing. 

“Yeah, okay, but this looks more like you’re the welcoming committee,” Puck jokes. “Do you think the protocol is me sending one to Luis?” 

“Is he, like, your boyfriend now?”

“I can’t actually send a card ‘cause I have no contact information for him,” Puck says as he shakes his head. 

“Okay. Not your boyfriend.” Finn scrunches his face again. “You could print one and tape it to his dorm room door.”

“Yeah, unless he’s not out or something,” Puck says. 

“It could just say ‘thanks’ and not include anything about bisexualness.”

“Yeah, true.” Puck pauses. “We’re good?” 

“Sure,” Finn says. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

Puck shrugs. “You’re pretty much the only constant thing in my life, dude. Doesn’t hurt to check.” 

“Pfft,” Finn says, waving Puck away. 

“I’m serious!” 

“So am I!” Finn says. “My feelings are hurt you felt like you had to check.”

“Oh my god. You look mortally offended.” 

“You’d be offended if I checked with _you_!” Finn says. 

“Well, _now_ I would be, yeah.” 

“Exactly!” Finn says. 

“Because—that wouldn’t be the same!” Puck protests. 

“How wouldn’t it be?” Finn asks. “If I was like, hey Puck, here’s my bisexualness and I want to make sure you’re not upset about it, your feelings would be kinda hurt. Because you’d think I thought you might be upset.”

“Yeah, it would be, ‘cause I’m already sitting here having told you I was bisexual.” 

“No, I mean if I told you _first_ ,” Finn says. 

Puck shakes his head, feeling confused. “But that’s not—not a possible hypothetical. And I _mostly_ meant, you know, because I hadn’t told you before.” 

“You could’ve told me any time, though, and I still wouldn’t have been weird about it,” Finn says. “Except maybe if you’d told me, like, _right_ after the Quinn thing.”

“Like I could have articulated it then,” Puck says, flicking his hand to the side. “No, I mean, like I didn’t tell you, even though I really did know.” 

Finn shrugs. “Well, I didn’t tell you either, so it’s fair, right?”

“I gu—what?” Puck says, blinking at Finn. 

“I didn’t tell you I was bisexual, either,” Finn says. “So it’s fair. Like, we’re cool. It’s even or whatever.”

“But—” Puck stops and decides he should get some kind of karmic credit or something for a fast recovery. “Okay, I didn’t mean there was an _obligation_ , I just try not to lie.” 

“I didn’t ask you, either,” Finn points out. 

“Still,” Puck says, then he has to fight a smile. “Someone is going to call me a bad influence, I just know it. Like the time _you_ thought up the prank we pulled at the end of eighth grade.” 

“Nah. I was totally okay with being bisexual before you were, so I’m the bad influence,” Finn says. “I just haven’t really felt like trying to date anybody so I didn’t think I needed to say anything.”

“Oh, _I_ know you’re the bad influence,” Puck says, starting to grin. “You’ll just pull the innocent act.” 

Finn shrugs again. “I can’t help being how I am, dude.”

“C’mon, you don’t think this is funny at all?” 

“A little funny,” Finn says, grinning back at Puck. He holds his hand up, thumb and index finger about an inch apart. “This much funny.”

“Only that much funny? And I knew you weren’t dating anyone but I figured it was a Rachel-thing or something.” 

Finn shakes his head. “I can barely keep up with my school stuff. Dating seems like _way_ too much right now. But hey! We can hang out together bisexually, if you want.”

“Haven’t we sort of already been doing that by default?” 

“Intentionally, then,” Finn says. 

Puck laughs. “Does that look any different than hanging out otherwise?” 

“I don’t know. Could be, if you wanted,” Finn says. “Our intentional hanging out together with our bisexualness.”

“I mean, you’re the expert, what with being the bad influence and all,” Puck says. 

“It could be cool. We’re already in the same place every night, so you would always know where you were,” Finn says. 

“True. Is there a catch?” Puck asks, grinning again. 

“If I start to flunk any of my classes, I’m telling my mom about the both of us.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get you to pass more than you have.” 

“Then I’ve already got an advantage, right?” Finn asks. 

“An advantage in school or with your mom?” Puck says. 

“Both?”

“Oh, you’ve always had an advantage with your mom. Your innocent look? She fell for it, what, seventy-five percent of the time? I could even _be_ innocent, and it was always ‘Now, Noah’.” 

“Now, Noah,” Finn says, in a close-to-perfect Carole imitation. “We both know that Finn’s always struggled academically.”

Puck takes close to a minute to stop laughing. “You could tell her you’re an academic bisexual.” 

“Do you think I can major in that?” Finn asks. 

“Actually, yeah, you can,” Puck says. 

“Then why am I not already majoring in that?” Finn asks. “You should sign up for classes and major in it, too. It would be, like, automatic A’s.”

“I knew there was a catch of some kind,” Puck says, pointing his finger at Finn accusingly. 

Finn shrugs. “Yeah, okay. You got me there.”

“The price of intentional bisexual hanging out is classes. I think that’s a statement to remember,” Puck says. “And the benefits?” 

“I just know the, you know.” Finn waves his hand a little. “Theoretical! The theoretical ones, which are probably, like, making out and probably some sex stuff, since we’ve already got the hanging out part down pretty good. If you want that other stuff, obviously.”

“The classes probably take time away from the benefits, but at least I wouldn’t get a lecture from Carole about distracting you that way,” Puck says, half-smiling and half-smirking. “We’d probably be pretty good at all of that, though.” 

“You think so?” Finn asks. His faces scrunches up in a dubious-looking way. 

“You _don’t_ think so?” 

“You’d be good at all of it,” Finn says. “I’m out of practice. I probably need a remedial bisexualness course.”

“Maybe a lab, not a lecture,” Puck says as he laughs. “I think you probably need less remedial-ness than you think, though.” 

Finn shrugs again. “Maybe, maybe not. For the record, you don’t _have_ to want to be bisexual _with_ me. We can both be bisexual separately but, like, equally.”

“I think that’s illegal,” Puck says, frowning and shaking his head. “Why wouldn’t I want to be?” 

“I don’t know. Who wouldn’t want to get with this?” Finn says, gesturing at himself and then laughing. 

“Hey, that’s what _I’m_ saying,” Puck says. 

“Bisexualness experts,” Finn says, holding out his fist. 

Puck laughs and bumps Finn’s fist. “You probably don’t _really_ want to change your major, though.” 

“Yeah, probably not,” Finn says. He pauses for a moment, scrunched-up face indicating he’s thinking. “I could _minor_ in it.”

“Maybe take the intro class before you decide,” Puck says. “No sense in filling out the paperwork until you’re sure.” 

“Yeah. Makes sense,” Finn says. 

“Now I’m really going to manage your time,” Puck warns. “You know that, right?” 

“You gonna major in micromanagement?”

“Nah, I don’t have to, I’m already good at it,” Puck says flippantly. “You can write a recommendation for my skills.” 

“It’ll be good practice for essay writing,” Finn says. 

Puck grins. “See, I’m always looking out for you.” 

“So, hey! Big day for both of us, with our bisexualness and all,” Finn says. “Want to go get lunch?”

“Yeah, but we have to go to Panera.” 

“Soup, sandwich, and bisexualness, check!” Finn says, then he laughs again. “‘Cause it’s the ‘you pick two’, get it?”

Puck laughs. “Yeah, I get it, that was _my_ punchline.” 

“See? We’re already totally mentally in sync, plus we’re roommates, so this is all gonna be cool _and_ super-efficient.”

Puck stands up and puts the chair back. “Exactly. As soon as you put on some pants.” 

“As soon as I put on some pants!” Finn agrees.


End file.
